


Let's Have A Wedding

by BoundLight



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Are you sure they're wrestling?, Bottom Aziraphale, Different genders, F/M, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, For different time periods, Handfasting, Historical Fantasy, In all time periods, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Male-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Recreating the statue, Rome - Freeform, Sealed With A kiss, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), They're not wrestling, Tie the knot, We're going all over the place, Wedding Rings, Wedding traditions, Weddings, Wrestling, because that sounded fun, crowley being good with kids, fast and loose with history, oil wrestling, seriously so much fluff, top crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:47:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoundLight/pseuds/BoundLight
Summary: One marriage wouldn't be enough for our ineffable husbands. Almost every tradition we have today Aziraphale and Crowley have tried out at one point or another.Chapter 1: Wedding Rings - Egypt - fem!Crowley/male!AziraphaleChapter 2: Handfasting - Celts - snake!Crowley, male!Crowley/male!AziraphaleChapter 3: Tie the Knot - Rome - male!Crowley/male!Aziraphale
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77





	1. 32nd Century Egypt

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley is going to switch gender whenever he feels like it, because that's how our favorite demon rolls. Aziraphale is going to switch gender once, maybe twice, because it looked like it might be fun. 
> 
> In case that's a deal breaker for you, in the notes at the top of each chapter I'll list what gender they've decided to be, as well as where they are, and what relative time period is.
> 
> Chapter One: Fem!Crowley/Male!Aziraphale, 32nd Century Egypt

It was a lovely day outside, so naturally Aziraphale had the blinds down, and the door tightly locked. A sign in the window declared in no uncertain terms that the shop was closed, and it was anyone's guess when he'd open again.

Behind him Crowley had moved the couch so it was perfectly positioned in a beam of light. Aziraphale continued to move it as the sun shifted, keeping the demon content and warm.

Aziraphale was busily reorganizing, humming softly to some nameless forgotten tune, when his eyes fell on a beautifully crafted mahogany box. It was heavy, and polished to a shine, still in perfect condition, even if the angel hadn't thought of it for who knew how long.

He shifted over to Crowley, lightly snoring, and joined him on the couch.

Crowley woke up as his legs moved, but when he realized Aziraphale was joining him he hurriedly shifted around so he could cuddle more fully into the angel's chest.

“It wasn't very romantic you know,” Aziraphale murmured, taking the ring out of its treasured box.

“It wasn't romantic?” Crowley said indignantly without opening his eyes. “I'll have you know I am exceedingly romantic in everything I do.”

Aziraphale smiled at the intricately woven reeds, which had been tinted white and edged with gold. “I was wasn't even convinced you were serious.”

“You agreed, and you weren't sure I meant it?” Crowley bit playfully at Aziraphale's vest, still soaking up the delicious heat around him.

“I've never been able to say no to you –”

“You say no to me _all the time_.”

“Never when it's something important –”

“ _Especially_ when it's something important.”

“Come now –”

“You wouldn't even give me the holy water at first.”

“I didn't want you to kill yourself!”

“...You thought I was going to kill myself?”

“Well –”

“Angel, and I mean this with all seriousness, were you drunk at the time?”

“That's hardly fair.”

“You thought I was going to kill myself! Me!”

“You wanted holy water!”

“And it certainly came in handy, exactly as I intended.”

Aziraphale huffed. “You could have just told me _why_ you needed it.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Crowley said, audibly rolling his eyes from where his face was pressed to Aziraphale's chest, “What did I do that was such a romantic flop?”

Aziraphale held the ring in front of Crowley's nose, until the demon peeked an eye open. He settled back down with an amused smirk. “Considering the time period, it was quite romantic. I was pledging myself to you. Can't get more romantic than that.”

“You presented it as a learning experience.”

“There was no way you would have said yes otherwise. You needed some proper logical excuse.”

“I'm not so sure.”

“Then you're lying to yourself, angel. Trust me.”

\-------

It was sometime in the 32nd Century.

Aziraphale was just passing through the region of Egypt, and had decided to stop and see the spectacular monuments that had been erected, and what he found was astounding.

Hieroglyphics.

It was the first time he'd ever seen humans do something so interesting as _writing_. He had to know more, and soon procured himself a position as a scribe. It was fairly easy to do if one was male, so of course he made sure he was one.

For the most part everything was fine. A minor miracle and the humans accepted him as one of their own. It was never questioned as to who he was, who his parents were, or where he came from. In their minds it was as though he had always been there. But being a man, and being single meant there was a certain amount of attention on him from women looking for an employed man, and men looking out for their daughters.

Aziraphale did what he always did in these situations, and ignored it. He wasn't interested. This didn't fix the situation for any of the humans involved, but to Aziraphale the subject was closed and so he put it from his mind.

His fellow scribes would not be dissuaded and every day one would do their best to get his attention, dropping very large hints about their daughters who were, or soon would be, in need of a husband.

Much to their disappointment, Aziraphale was very slow to take a hint. So slow in fact it seemed like he never really caught on to what they were talking about. It was adorably amusing to think such an educated man could be so oblivious, so instead of growing irritated or annoyed, he just garnered amusement.

A scribes job was easy work. Well, if you knew how to read and write in the very complex hieroglyphics it was an easy job. Aziraphale took to it like a duck to water, and was well known to his peers as becoming so absorbed in his work that the building could collapse around him, and it would probably take a few days for him to notice, and then only if someone tapped him on the shoulder a few times.

But he was attractive, and he was kind, and he had a steady job that paid well. He clearly just needed a guiding hand in his life. Someone who could balance him.

“My daughter,” Masudi assured his fellow scribes. “She would be perfect for him.”

“No, no, _my_ daughter would be,” Nailah argued. “She has an adventurous spirit, but I think that is what he needs! He's far too serious.”

“He already turned you down. _Twice_.”

“Bah, he thought I was giving him a gift, not a wife. I'll get through to him today.”

“Not if I do first.”

The two men glared at each other over Aziraphale's oblivious head.

“Excuse me?”

All heads but one turned to the door, where a beautiful woman leaned. Her appearance was not what they would consider classically beautiful, but her appearance was striking nonetheless. She was tall, and very thin, standing with a casual grace as she peered into the room. Her long red hair was done up in braids that fell down her back, decorated with gold that glittered in the sun. Most shocking were her bright yellow eyes that both appalled and intrigued.

“Did you need help with something, sister?” Masudi asked, filling the silence.

She ignored him, her eyes on Aziraphale. When he failed to look up she smiled in fond amusement and sauntered to his work space. She leaned her hip against the table, brushing his hand. Finally Aziraphale looked up and his face broke into a wide, sunny smile. “Crowley!”

The other men in the room drooped in defeat. It was so obvious from his posture, to his expression, to the new light in his eyes. This man clearly was already taken.

“Take a walk with me, angel,” Crowley purred.

Aziraphale smiled and stood, leaving his work forgotten.

The scribes looked on in shock. Aziraphale _never_ left work unfinished. The mysterious woman Crowley winked at them as she ushered Aziraphale out.

“You're looking lovely!” Aziraphale said as they stepped out into the light. “The sun quite suits you.”

“Kissed by Ra, the humans are saying,” Crowley said with an amused smirk. “Aren't they adorable? Praying to the sun of all things. Though I suppose that has always been a staple for humanity at some point or another.”

“Not just the sun,” Aziraphale said beaming. “They have over two thousand Gods, representing all sorts of things. It's quite fascinating.”

“Doesn't seem like that bothers you. What would your side say?” Crowley teased.

Aziraphale hummed and started down the street, Crowley walking cheerfully beside him. “I'm sure my side would have plenty to say. But I would say... humanity is a wonderful thing. And they're growing and evolving, and as they do their faith does. And maybe they'll pray to many things, or maybe they'll pray to nothing. And that's ok. They are as our Mother made them. Who are we to judge?”

Crowley couldn't help but link their hands. It was that or stop time and throw him against a wall.

“Have you noticed all the humans staring at you?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley glanced at the men – and women – stopping their work to watch them pass. “It's my job to draw attention, angel. Sow temptation and all that.”

“Temptation? Does that mean you've had... lovers?”

“That's quite improper to ask, angel. I'm not married, so in this society at least it doesn't matter who I sleep with.”

“But have you?”

“Would you be jealous if I had?”

“Of – of course not! Don't be ridiculous.”  
  


“I think you are,” Crowley sang.

“I...” Aziraphale trailed off, looking anywhere except Crowley, embarrassed beyond measure. “So what do these lovers call you?”

“I never said I had lovers, angel.”

“You implied it.”

“Or your jealousy is turning your head.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Fine, have your secrets.”

“Don't be like that, angel. I'm not sleeping with them. I'm just... tempting them. Nothing wrong with tempting.”

“I'm sure some would disagree.”

“Someone always does, the key is not to care.”

“That has always been one of your many talents.”

“Technically then my lovers don't call me anything. But no, I don't go by Crowley here, that's silly.”

“Odd, I thought you liked the name.”

“Well, Crowley's not really an Egyptian name, is it?”

“What do you go by then?”

“When I'm in this region I go by Omorose.”

“That's a beautiful name, good choice.”

Crowley flushed and looked away, trying to hide it. “Doesn't matter. What name are you going by?”

“....Just Aziraphale.”

“No, seriously.”

“What, is that bad?”

“It's your actual _name_ , angel! And it doesn't even match the region! What do the humans around you think?”

“It hasn't really come up.”

“Really. That guy back there wanted you to marry his daughter, but your _name_ hasn't come up?”

“I mean, of course I've _told_ them my name, it just hasn't been an issue.”

“Oh, angel,” Crowley sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“What name should I have taken?”

“Hanbal would have been nice.”

“I'm... not familiar with that one.”

Crowley leaned in close, her lips brushing Aziraphale's ear. “ _Pure. Pristine. Perfect._ ”

“T-that's hardly – I mean, I –”

“I think it suits you.”

Aziraphale blushed brightly. He cleared his throat. “Does that mean you don't want me to call you Crowley when we're here?”

“What? No, don't be daft. Of course you can still call me Crowley.”

“Does that mean you'll still call me Aziraphale?”

“Of – yes! What are you talking about?”

“In that case, why do I need to pick a human name?”

“....I'm sorry, what?”

“Well, it only matters what you call me, doesn't it?”

Crowley stuttered to a halt, her mind short circuiting. “...what I...?”

“After all, these humans are so very young, aren't they? And so fragile.” Aziraphale walked ahead, completely unaware that he'd said something so mind shattering.

“– w-what _I_ call –”

Aziraphale finally noticed he was walking alone. He turned back curiously. “Crowley?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah. Yeah. Yeah, totally. Just fine. Don't mind me.” She took a few hurried steps to catch back up.

“You sure?”

Crowley shook herself. “Just fine.”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Aziraphale asked.

“I was in the neighborhood, and I decided to see how you were getting on. I didn't realize you were just... what was it you were doing?”

“Writing.”

“That's new. Sounds interesting.”

“It is!”

“I _also_ heard about something interesting.”

“Oh?”

“Look at _this_ _!_ ” With a flourish Crowley opened her palm, revealing a tight, intricately woven band. It was impossibly white, edged with gold. Aziraphale's eyes widened, and he leaned close as Crowley knew he would. She inwardly cheered.

“My, that is lovely. What is it?”

“It's a ring, angel, obviously.”

“What is it for?”

“For this.” Crowley took Aziraphale's left hand, placing it on the fourth finger.

Aziraphale held it up to the light, admiring it. “Did you make this?”

“I did.”

“It's wonderful.”

Crowley preened.

“But what is it for?”

Crowley hummed, linking their hands together again and tugging Aziraphale towards the river. “What do you think about marriage?”

Aziraphale frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Thoughts, angel! I want to know what's going on in that head of yours.”

“Well... it seems to serve a variety of purposes. The main one is just joining households. A sharing of land and property.”

“Do you know the other purpose.”

Aziraphale shrugged. “There are a lot of purposes, dear. It depends on the people and the circumstances.”

Crowley stopped, Aziraphale obediently falling in beside her. “It's not just about money, or land, or social standing. I mean yes, a lot of the time it is. But in some cases, in _special_ cases, it is about _romance._ That's why I'm here.”

“I'm sure that happens in more places than just here.”

“Ok, fair. But this is new. This is _here_.” Crowley took Aziraphale's hand, touching the band. “This ring? It goes on this finger specifically, because according to these humans there is a vein – the vena amoris – that runs from this finger directly to the heart.”

“I'm not sure that's actually biologically true, dear.”

Crowley shrugged. “But it's a good sentiment, I'm sure you agree.”

Aziraphale ducked his head, smiling. “It is.”

“And it also just so happens to be a circle. A powerful symbol, a band without end representing eternal life and love.” Crowley bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. Then she straightened her shoulders and stepped into Aziraphale's space, holding his hand tightly, making sure there would be no mistake. “Will you wear this for me?”

“You... want to marry me?

“What if I do?”

“We're mortal enemies!”

But he didn't step back. He didn't shake her off. Crowley counted it as a small victory, and pressed further.

“Are we though? Do you think I'm your enemy? Do you think I want to hurt you?”

“Well... we're meant to be.”

“I don't particularly care what we're meant to be, angel. I want you to wear this ring for me. If... if you want to.”

Aziraphale's eyes dropped to his finger, the beautifully crafted ring looking perfect where it sat. “It doesn't seem like this will have much longevity.”

Crowley smiled impishly. “We'll just have to keep updating them then.”

Aziraphale worried his lip. “It's not that I don't want to... it's just... my side would not like this.”

“Why not? Marriage is quite important to humans. How are you going to get to know this side of them if you haven't been married?”

“Well –”

“And don't tell me you're going to marry one of _them_. They're... children! Think of all you've seen compared to them, all you've done.” Crowley leaned into Aziraphale's side. “But I know what you've seen. I know what you've done. You can't take advantage of me. I would argue it would be morally _wrong_ to marry some human. I'm the only other logical choice. That is, unless you want to try marrying Gabriel, and let's face it, that's disgusting.” Crowley stuck her tongue out in disgust and shuddered.

“Is that the only reason you want to do this?” Aziraphale asked carefully. “For the experience?”

“Do you really have to ask that?” Crowley looked at him from under lowered lashes, fully aware of the effect.

Aziraphale looked at her uncertainly, and Crowley finally gave into the temptation to kiss the look off his face.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said breathlessly.

“Oh, he says,” Crowley said, rolling her eyes playfully. But Aziraphale's eyes were trained on her lips, and Crowley felt a bit proud of herself.

“... So you.... You feel...?”

“Yes, angel. Obviously.”

“...and what exactly would... _this_... entail?”

“Nothing terribly important. Just that you'll love and honor me.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Just that?”

“And that I'll love and honor you too.”

“And that's all there is to marriage?”

“Well, customs are different everywhere. Here I think you'd talk to my father, negotiate what price you want for my hand, and then I'd just... move in.”

A sly smile spread across Aziraphale's face. “So what exactly am I getting for your hand?”

With a laugh Crowley leaned in. The kiss was meant to be silly. Just a joke. Something to surprise. Instead it was achingly tender tinged with desperation. They both clutched at each others clothing, trying to get closer, refusing to let go.

Eventually they had to part, but they didn't move far. Crowley settled for peppering kisses across Aziraphale's cheeks, while the angel nuzzled into her collar.

“I'll take that as a yes then?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Crowley brushed her nose against his. “Then I think you owe me a ring as well, angel.”

“I knew you wanted something,” Aziraphale teased. He closed his hand, and when he opened it there was a tightly woven ring made of gold and lined with black. “Will you wear this for me?”

Crowley kissed him again. She knew they were starting to get some looks, but that just made her all the more bold. “Naturally.”

“I suppose now you just need to move in, right?”

“Take me home, angel.”

\------

Crowley slipped the ring back on Aziraphale's finger with a fond smile. “You said it wouldn't last, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled. “You are a master craftsman.”

“Craftsperson.”

“Craftsangel?”

“Craftsdemon then.”

“It's so lovely, why did we ever stop wearing them?”

Crowley caressed the gold ring sitting on Aziraphale's finger. “We can put them back on if you like. Or we can update them again.”

“I suppose we haven't had a ceremony in a few hundred years.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“And I'm sure our new friends would like to attend. This could be fun!”

“How do humans get married these days?”

“I'm... not sure actually. But I'm sure Anathema would know. She seems like a clever girl. Or Madam Tracy!”

Crowley imagined a leather drenched wedding and had to stop himself from laughing. “We'll start with Anathema.”


	2. 13th century, Ancient Celts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ancient Celts, 13th Century - Handfasting
> 
> Snake Crowley, male!Crowley/male!Aziraphale

Aziraphale sighed happily as he walked through the forest, his long robes barely disrupting the fallen leaves as he passed. His hair was long, reaching almost to his waist, and was decorated with a series of intricate braids.

He spent most of his days among the people, helping solve disputes, share his knowledge, lead religious services, or administer medicine. It was also occasionally required of him to perform sacrifices, which was Aziraphale's least favorite thing to do. So far he'd avoided sacrificing a human despite heavy pressure – appeasing the people with animal blood, and a subtle heavenly miracle.  
  


The rest of his time he spent with his fellow Druids studying the oral history of ancient verse, or natural philosophy, or even astronomy. It had taken almost twenty years of training to be accepted among the order, but for Aziraphale that was nothing.  
  


"You look like you're having fun."  
  


Aziraphale froze as a large black snake dropped from a tree above, and wrapped around his shoulders. A tongue flicked affectionately at his cheek. Aziraphale smiled at the snake and continued his walk.  
  


"I was wondering where you got to," the snake continued, squeezing affectionately.  
  


"I thought a trek north was in order," Aziraphale said. "The traditions here are so interesting."  
  


"And of course you were all too eager to come and learn. How long did it take you to earn these robes, eh?"  
  


Aziraphale turned his head with a sniff. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."  
  


"Of course you don't," Crowley said with a chuckle. "What are you here for then? The food?"  
  


Aziraphale brightened. "Actually, it's not bad."  
  


"High praise."  
  


"Here, I'll show you." Aziraphale made an abrupt left turn, heading back to a nearby village. "I'll admit, it's not.... shall we say, divine? But it is a fantastic start. I can't wait to see where humans take this."  
  


"Of course the food would interest you most," Crowley teased as they stepped past the tangle of the woods, and into the town proper. A few of the nearby humans stood to greet the Druid, and froze at the sight of the large snake draped. Neither angel nor demon noticed.  
  


Aziraphale ducked his head, looking away with a blush. It was adorable but tugged at Crowley's heart in a bad way. He nosed under Aziraphale's chin trying to pull his angel's attention back. A few nearby women and children gasped and ran a small distance away, where they could watch him pass from relative safety.  
  


"It's fine to like the things you like," Crowley hissed. "Don't be ashamed."  
  


"It just isn't terribly angelic, is it?" Aziraphale murmured.  
  


Crowley nudged at his chin again. "You're just learning from humanity, angel. That's not bad. That's literally what you were sent here to do."  
  


"I'm not sure Gabriel would agree," Aziraphale said, but he had the shadow of a smile, so Crowley counted it as a win.  
  


The unnoticed humans around them were stunned.  
  


Aziraphale was well known among them as one of the wisest Druids. He was sometimes weird, and a bit sentimental, but he was a good man and had an unwavering memory. Now here he was, returned from the forest with an impossibly large snake wrapped protectively around him, and they were having a conversation. It wasn't that they could hear what the snake was saying if he was indeed saying anything, but from the way its head bobbed, and how he reached out to touch Aziraphale's face it was clear something was passing between them. Most confusing was Aziraphale's reaction to all of this. He didn't seem to mind the large snake squeezing him in its coils. He didn't mind the snake near his throat, touching his chin, so very close to his face. He was completely unafraid. It was terrifying. And impressive. The bustle of the normally active and crowded village was slightly subdued as the surrounding people did their best to unobtrusively eavesdrop on the odd situation.  
  


"Ssso," Crowley said companionably, settling down in his coils, content to bask in Aziraphale's warmth. "What do you have planned today?"  
  


"I have a healing to attend to." Aziraphale nodded to some of the people they passed out of habit, oblivious to the wide-eyed stares.  
  


"Interesting. What's that entail? Just lay your hands on him? Oh Lord, bless this mortal?"  
  


Aziraphale scowled at him. "It's not exactly like that."  
  


"Why not? Not a mortal you particularly like?"  
  


"No –"  
  


"Is he rude?"  
  


"What –"  
  


"A child killer?"  
  


"Crowley –"  
  


"Just ugly then?"  
  


"I don't particularly care what any human might look like," Aziraphale said primly.  
  


"So he is ugly then."  
  


"Why does this matter?"  
  


"Just wondering why you don't want to heal the sick guy. Seems like that's an angel's job, right?"  
  


"I am going to heal him! I'm just... not going to lay my hands on him."  
  


"Why not?"  
  


"That's not how things are done around here, my dear. There's a certain process they expect. And its..."  
  


"That bad, huh? Do they want you to kiss him?" Crowley flicked his tongue playfully over his angel's lips.  
  


Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "No, nothing like that."  
  


"Then....?"  
  


"If you must know, they expect me to perform... a sacrifice," he spat the word.  
  


Crowley blinked his large yellow eyes and shifted until he could meet Aziraphale's blue ones. Aziraphale ducked his head and did his best to avoid him, but Crowley was currently extremely flexible, and there was nothing Aziraphale could do to stop him. The bemused audience couldn't take their eyes away.  
  


"You? You're going to sacrifice something? Really? What's it going to be? A rabbit? Wait no, you wouldn't be genuinely upset over that... let me guess... A human?"  
  


"It's nothing –"  
  


"Nothing! It's not nothing! It's very much something."  
  


"I don't want to talk about this –"  
  


"Oh, we are very much talking about this."  
  


Crowley tightened his coils threateningly as Aziraphale tried to turn his head again.  
  


Aziraphale gave up with a huff. "No, I will not be sacrificing a human today."  
  


"Just today? Does that mean you've done it before."  
  


"No! I... I haven't had to sacrifice a human yet, but... it does happen around here. I'm trying to stop it, but..."  
  


"But some customs are very ingrained," Crowley said wisely, nodding his large head.  
  


"Such a wise serpent. How did I go so long without your wisdom?"  
  


"That is a question I ask myself every day."  
  


"You think about me every day?"  
  


"You mean to say you don't think about me?" Crowley teased.  
  


Aziraphale sighed. "That's not –"  
  


"Come on," Crowley cajoled. "Do you think about me? I know you think about me."  
  


Aziraphale glared at him.  
  


"Um... 'Scuse me?"  
  


They both turned to look at a small girl, twisting the hem of her shirt in her hands. She stared with wide curious eyes at the very large serpent. Crowley shifted, winding off Aziraphale until his giant nose was mere inches from her face.  
  


His tongue flicked out at her, and she shrieked, falling back a step. His great form shook as he laughed silently as only a serpent could while Aziraphale looked upward, quietly asking, why me? He glanced back as the girl giggled, rushing so close so fast Crowley jerked back. Her tiny hands reached out slowly, and then gently touched him. When that didn't immediately result in her being bitten or scolded, she proceeded to pet him carefully, as Aziraphale watched them with quiet fascination.  
  


With her hands still pressed to Crowley's scales, she looked up at Aziraphale. "My mommy said to come to get you. Daddy's not feeling so good."  
  


"Yes, we were just on our way," Aziraphale nudged at Crowley until the serpent gave in and wrapped snugly around him once more.  
  


The girl looked on in amazement.  
  


"Let your mother know I'll be there momentarily." Aziraphale very politely shooed.  
  


The girl snapped out of it, nodded, and ran off through the crowded village.  
  


"I'm not sure what I'm going to do," Aziraphale groaned.  
  


"Hmm... well... are you willing to trust me?"  
  


Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously, but it wasn't like he had any better ideas. He relented, nodding slightly. Crowley's large mouth split into a terrifying grin, fangs flashing. "What will this entail?"  
  


Crowley made an odd undulation that passed for a shrug. "We'll improvise. What's this human's name anyway?"  
  


"Ninian."  
  


"Ninian," Crowley tasted the name. "That's quite the name."  
  


"Like ours are any better to them."  
  


"Fair enough, fair enough."  
  


The Ninian household was towards the center of the village. A small, round structure with a thatched roof made of straw. The girl from before was standing by the door watching for them. She waved when she saw them and rushed inside.  
  


Aziraphale slowed to a halt, blessing under his breath.  
  


"What?" Crowley hissed.  
  


"Aziraphale!"  
  


Crowley jerked to look at a human male, running over with a grin and a wave. He was dressed more like Aziraphale than any of the people around them. "Another Druid?" he asked.  
  


"To help with the sacrifice," Aziraphale muttered.  
  


"Ohhh," Crowley said. "Well I think we ought to see the patient before we jump into anything, don't you?"  
  


"Aziraphale! So good to see you! Are you ready?"  
  


"Hello, Eogan."  
  


"This is a fine serpent," Eogan praised. "I've brought a prisoner with me for the tribute, but if you'd rather start with this..."  
  


Crowley raised himself off Aziraphale's shoulders, making himself as large as possible, and hissed loudly, fangs bared, daring the human to try to touch him.  
  


"I think I need to see the patient first," Aziraphale said, not noticing or caring about Eogan falling over himself to get out of range. He brushed past, entering the home.  
  


The crowd that had been discretely following the pair now not so discretely eyed the Druid. Eogan held a hand to his breast, trying to catch his breath, but after a few minutes, the crowd and his curiosity drove him into the house.  
  


Inside Aziraphale was bent over his patient's bed, the serpent right beside him, looking every bit as interested. Eogan moved to stand with the rest of Ninian's family. His wife Boudicca was grumbling as she tried to keep her daughter Fedelmid from rushing forward to touch the snake.  
  


"What do you think?" Crowley hissed softly.  
  


"Just a respiratory illness. Easy enough to heal," Aziraphale murmured.  
  


"But they expect a show."  
  


"Indeed."  
  


"You do not have permission to sacrifice me," Crowley said, flicking a tongue against Aziraphale's ear. "I have a thought. Put me on his chest."  
  


"Are you sure?"  
  


"Remember, angel. Showmanship."  
  


Aziraphale extended his hand, and Crowley followed the curve down and unfurled on the man's chest. Wrapped around Aziraphale's shoulders it was clear he was large, but sometimes it was easy to forget exactly how long he was. Settling over the human it was impossible to ignore. He was thicker around than the man's arm, as long as he was tall. His scales were so black it was as though a large shadow was now hiding him from view, the red of his underbelly the only thing showing accurately where he lay.  
  


Eogan and Boudicca were terrified. Fedelmid just wanted a better view.  
  


Once he was settled, Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, winked, and then lowered his head to rest over Ninian's heart.  
  


It took a brush of the fear behind him for Aziraphale to finally realize what to do. He clasped his hands, bowed his head, and began to chant. As the tempo and volume rose the body beneath Crowley's coils began to glow with an internal light. It wasn't anything dramatic – if it weren't for Crowley's jet black coils it might have gone completely unnoticed.  
  


Just as suddenly as he began he stopped and the light vanished. Crowley lifted his head, and as he did Ninian gasped, breathing deeply for the first time in months. It took several deep breaths until the man froze, finally noticing the giant serpent pinning him down, looking at his face with interest. Crowley had any number of hilarious ideas of what to do with the terrified man beneath him, but before he could make up his mind, Aziraphale was offering his hand and frankly Crowley would much rather be with his angel.  
  


He wound back up his arm and wrapped him tightly in his coils. "A rousing successss," he hissed in Aziraphale's ear. "Now what?"  
  


Aziraphale smiled beatifically and headed over to talk with Eogan and Boudicca. Crowley was much more curious about young Fedelmid who raced out the door.  
  


By the time Aziraphale was done dealing with all the social niceties required of him, Crowley felt he would die of boredom. He had tried to spend the time doing his utmost to distract Aziraphale, but the angel barely noticed him. He went so far as to unhinge his jaw, testing to see if it was possible to fit Aziraphale's head in his mouth. He got barely a glance. From the angel at least. Eogan and Boudicca were looking on in mounting horror.  
  


Finally, FINALLY, Aziraphale left. He didn't get far. Outside it seemed the whole village had gathered, the kids just barely being held back.  
  


Aziraphale paused, unsure of exactly what to do in this situation. Crowley knew exactly what to do. With an excited hiss and a shimmy, he ended up pooling in front of Aziraphale's feet and then charged the nearest kid head-on. There was a shriek as the nearby crowd tried to fall back, but with so many people it was impossible to get far.  
  


The boy he was racing toward had wide terrified eyes, but he held his ground. When Crowley reached him he turned a quick circle around him, and then paused, flicking a tongue out playfully. That was all it took for the kids to decide this was going to be the best game ever, and soon the town was full of laughter and screaming as all the kids devised more and more elaborate games to play with the serpent. Crowley was all too willing to play along.  
  


Aziraphale smiled warmly and found himself a cozy seat near a fire, and a plate of something delicious to eat while he waited. He loved to watch the demon around children and was in no hurry to rush him. The soft side Crowley revealed around the young touched his heart in ways he couldn't name, and he couldn't bear to end it. So he sat quietly and pretended not to notice Crowley chase and hiss... and help fallen children up, flick a tongue instead of teeth, allow far too hard of pets, and keep all the children within the main square, well in sight of their parents. Aziraphale watched surreptitiously, worried Crowley might stop if he noticed how closely he was being observed.  
  


After several hours Crowley returned to Aziraphale. He was moving a bit sluggishly, slow and tired. He flicked a tongue at Aziraphale's ankle, and then wound up under his robe, up his leg, then his waist, and up his chest, tucking his head against the angel's throat.  
  


"Dearest?"  
  


"Cold," Crowley muttered.  
  


Aziraphale cooed. He hadn't noticed how cold the scales were against his skin. He shifted closer to the fire, doing his best to warm the serpent quickly.  
  


"Stupid North," Crowley grumbled. He sighed as Aziraphale ran a careful hand down his scales.  
  


"You might be warmer as a human," Aziraphale suggested.  
  


"Don't like me as a snake?" Crowley flicked a tongue at him.  
  


"I like whatever form you take," Aziraphale said, gently touching his nose with the tip of his finger.  
  


Crowley blinked his large yellow eyes, and then wound down out of the angel's robes, rising again in his human form. He didn't dress the way Aziraphale was – he didn't think he'd pass as a Druid after all – so he kept it simple. Black robes with red accents. He stuck his tongue out at Aziraphale and moved closer to the fire, briskly rubbing his arms.

“Here,” Aziraphale said. He stepped up beside him and offered him a plate of mutton.

The meat had been cut into small bite-sized chunks and had been basted in honey, lightly blackened from the fire. Crowley glared at it suspiciously but obediently tried a piece.

“Okay, it's not terrible,” he conceded, handing the plate back.

“Don't you want anymore?”

Crowley shrugged. “I don't really feel like eating. You have it, angel.”

Aziraphale frowned at him, but the food was best hot, so he didn't wait too long. Pleased, Crowley sat back to watch, enjoying watching the pleasure on his angel's face with each bite, his breath hitching when Aziraphale chased the juices running down his wrist with his tongue.

They were largely left alone by the fire, but the whispers around them were running wildly. Neither the angel, nor the demon figured the human's of the village were paying them any attention, but word that the black serpent had turned into a darkly dressed man was running rampant.

_He's a skin-walker, a monster_ , the whispers raced.

_A monster?_

_But how bad can he be if he's under the control of a Druid?_

_Is he safe?_

_Of course he's not safe._

_But can he be trusted?_

The quietly arguing people soon formed into two parties. Thought it was their duty to the village to chase out the demon, and those who thought they should do their best to entice the creature to stay and act as a nanny to their children. Their conversations went completely unnoticed.

“Anything else planned for today?” Crowley asked.

“Mm, one more,” Aziraphale said around another bite of the juicy meat. “A wedding.”

“Oh, I can't miss that.”

The couple planned for their ceremony to take place at the top of a nearby hill in the rays of the setting sun. Crowley stood back from the couple a ways, unobtrusively watching. Aziraphale said a few words, and then the couple joined hands. Aziraphale took out a beautifully braided cord and tied their hands. Crowley watched with rapt attention.

Afterward the couple left, but Aziraphale remained on the hill, watching the last rays of the sun. Crowley joined him. “That was... what was that?”

“A handfast ceremony,” Aziraphale said. “It's how these humans get married.”

“I want to do that, how do we do that?”

“We're already married, my dear.” Aziraphale raised his hand, flashing the white and gold ring unobtrusively on his finger.

“So what? A human gets married, and it only lasts for the rest of their lives. What is that? Ten or twenty years?”

“Often less.”

“Exactly! Less! Well, it's been several hundred years since we were last married, so by human standards we are due for an update.”

“I don't quite think that's how it works.”

“Oh, come _on_ , angel. Please?”

Aziraphale couldn't deny his demon that. Not when he asked so nicely. A simple gesture and a braided cord of white and black appeared in Aziraphale's hands.

“Yes!” Crowley cheered. “What do I do?”

Aziraphale held out his hand. Crowley quickly stepped forward to take it. The angel took the rope and carefully wrapped it around their hands and wrists.

“Now what?”

“We really should have someone else officiate...”

“I don't see why.”

“Crowley...”

“Just do it, angel.”

“I feel a bit silly...”

“I promise not to laugh.”

Aziraphale glared. “Fine.” He took a breath. “The next part is a declaration of intent. Normally I would ask the question of each participant –”

“I think it's safe to assume you're saying yes.”

“Or we could just skip this part.”

“ _Angel_.”

“Very well... Crowley, do you vow to share in my pain and seek to alleviate it?”

“Of course.”

“Will you share in my laughter and look for the brightness and positive in our lives.”

“Is that really one of the lines, or are you faking?”

“ _Crowley_.”

“I'm just saying, as a demon that one might be a bit hard for me.”

Aziraphale gave him a pointed look.

“Alright, _fine_ , yes.”

“Will you share in my burdens so we may grow in this union?”

“Don't I already – yes, yes, fine, stop glaring at me.”

“Will you share in my dreams?”

“I'm always interested in your dreams, angel.”

“Will you honor me as an equal in this union?”

“Always.”

“And I make the same vows to you.”

Crowley beamed.

“As our hands are bound so are our lives and spirit joined in a union of love and trust. We are bound not only by these cords, but by the vows we have made, and we hold in our hands the fate of this union. Like the stars above our love will be a constant source of light. Like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow. May our hands be blessed this day, and may they always hold one another. May they have the strength to hold on during the stress of storms, and the darkness of disillusionment. May they build a relationship founded in love and rich in caring. May these hands be healers, protectors, provide shelter, and guide each other.”

“That was... really pretty, angel. What happens next?”

“Now we decide how long we want this to last.”

“Last?”

“This begins as more of a... temporary arrangement. We determine how long we want to try this, and after that time we can either make this a permanent union or end it. It can be either a year or a day... or anything in between.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley in quiet amusement as the demon tried to wrap his head around that.

After several long minutes Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's trapped hand. “How long do you want to have me?”

Crowley tugged Aziraphale into a fierce kiss. “Oh, I'm never giving you up,” he growled against his lips.

“Good,” Aziraphale answered, pressing another kiss to his lips. “And now we untie ourselves.”

Crowley grinned sharply. “Not for a while yet.” With a quick twist, he pulled Aziraphale to the ground and used their joined hands to pull the angel's hands above his head. His hands fumbled with the catch of Aziraphale's robes. It would admittedly be an easier task with both hands free, but the sight of the cord joining them was making his insides squirm in the most delightful of ways. “I need to tie you up more often,” he murmured, biting at the angel's throat.


	3. 41 AD Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 41 AD Rome
> 
> male!Crowley/male!Aziraphale

Crowley hadn't liked Rome when he'd first arrived. It was loud, crowded, and entitled. He begrudgingly liked how modern it was, but frankly, he preferred the vibe of the Vikings further north. He wasn't about to waste time researching a place he didn't plan to stay in, so he just threw on whatever seemed right, styled his hair after a statue he'd passed, and then gone to do his temptation.

It went _terribly_.

Everyone was staring at him like he was crazy, and his target had been so distracted by his new sunglasses that he'd spent more time staring at Crowley like he was the demon he was, rather than deciding embezzlement sounded like fun.

Frustrated, he decided to stop for a drink of whatever was strongest at a local bar before leaving this cursed continent for a while when he'd run into his delightful angel.

Aziraphale looked every inch like he belonged. His robes hung like any other patron, his fluffy hair was wild and unstyled, and while he hadn't seen anyone else wearing an angel wing pin, it worked with the outfit and no one paid it any notice. That wasn't to say Aziraphale wasn't drawing eyes, but it was lust being directed toward him, not confusion.

Crowley self consciously adjusted the hang of his robes to match his angel's – even if he kept them black. It was impossible to keep up with how humankind chose to dress across continents, though he was normally a bit faster on the pick up then his angel, still, he was a bit disappointed in himself. For a moment he considered adjusting the color as he could see no one else wearing black, but what could he say? He looked good in black. If anyone asked he could always claim he was in mourning. He lost the garland headpiece he'd chosen as well. It had seemed mandatory from all the paintings he'd walked past, but literally no one was wearing one, so he ditched it.

If Aziraphale noticed his fashion faux pas he didn't comment. All he did was smile wide, his eyes sparkling.

“So good to see you, my dear!”

“And you. Feels like ages.”

“Oh, certainly not that long.”

“A few hundred years at least. I should have known you'd end up here. The cultural center of the world and all that.”

Aziraphale shrugged and signaled for a drink. He gave the bartender a grateful nod, and Crowley scowled at the surge of lust from the man. A small demonic miracle blew up a bottle behind the bar, jerking the human's attention away.

“Really, dearest?”

Crowley shrugged, sipping his drink. It actually wasn't bad, much to his surprise. He tapped the glass and it refilled. He smirked at Aziraphale's disproving look, though it quickly morphed into something softer. “So tell me, how much of the... culture here are you responsible for?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Aziraphale said primly, drinking deeply from his cup.

“Oh, sure. All the... uh... _Literature?_ _Architecture?_ You've clearly been going a bit overboard with the miracles.”

“They've done it all themselves, and they have much more than that! What about their contributions to modern language, and religion? Society as a whole! And technology? Engineering? Humans have come up with such amazing and creative things!”

“Very creative, to be sure. War, slavery, conquest...”

“Well, yes, they do have quite the army, and a certain thirst for...”

“And gladiators! Don't forget them! They get a kick out of watching men fight to the death. Doesn't really sound like your kind of place when it's put that way, does it?” With a grin, he finished his drink and tapped the glass to refill it. The barman walked past, setting another drink in front of Aziraphale, and looking at Crowley's full glass in confusion.

“Not all of their fighting is to the death,” Aziraphale complained.

“Only most of it.”

“No. They aren't anywhere near as barbaric as you seem to think.”

“They enjoy watching people kill each other! For fun!” Crowley teased.

“What, and your Vikings are so much better?”

“Oh, my sweet, beautiful angel. Killing out of necessity and _watching_ people kill each other for _entertainment_ are two very different things.”

“Necessity? From what I hear your Vikings get quite the kick out of it.”

“You know what I'm hearing? You're throwing down a lot of baseless, slanderous accusations about a surprisingly pleasant group of people, and while you're trying to distract me with that you aren't doing anything to defend your silly Romans.”

“You wicked serpent,” Aziraphale scowled. “These people have plenty of nonviolent activities. Like... uh...”

“You can't even think of anything!”

“Wrestling! Yes, wrestling is a – a battle of strength and determination that almost never ends with a fatality.”

“No. No, no, no. I'm calling you on that, angel. I need proof.”

“Fine,” Aziraphale said primly. “There's a match tonight as luck would have it.”

“Tonight, eh? Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

Time passed faster than Crowley would have liked, but time with Aziraphale always did. All too soon the sun was setting, and they were heading to Colosseum. Inside there were hundreds of candles and torches lighting everything.

Aziraphale led them to seats fairly close to the front, somehow miraculously empty. Crowley looked at everything, intrigued by the sights, the sounds, the excitement dancing in the air over the crowd.

A cheer rose as two men stepped out of two opposing doorways, and walked towards the center of the field.

Crowley did a double-take. The two extremely muscled men were completely naked and covered in oil that glistened in the light of the fire. When the two met in the center there was a brief nod, an acknowledgment, and then they were circling each other, testing the water with small quick movements to grab at the other.

It was weird, strangely erotic, and captivating. Crowley wasn't sure what the rules were, but that didn't stop his enjoyment. The two men were grappling, capturing wrists or arms, the slick of the oil making every movement a challenge, doing their best to knock the other down as the crowd roared. The battle lasted for almost an hour before one man was declared the victor.

Crowley smiled gleefully as they walked out.

“Quite the sport,” Aziraphale said, his hands folded in front of him as they walked down the dark city streets.

“It was an awful lot of fun,” Crowley said with a grin. “I am always a fan of a fixed match.”

“... What does that mean?”

“Come on now! You can't honestly think that was real!”

“Of course it was!”

“No way. If we followed those two I'm sure we'd see money changing hands right now.”

“You – You've never even been to a match before! How would you know if it was fixed?”

“Angel, I'm a demon. It's my job to know these things.”

“Well my dear, I don't believe _you_. I need proof.”

“Alright, fine. I'll show you. Where are you staying?”

Aziraphale's current home was on the edge of the main city. It was big, luxurious, and exactly what Crowley expected of his angel. Everything about his home from the paintings on the wall to the furniture screamed comfort. Even the bed he knew Aziraphale never used was sinfully soft. Crowley threw himself down on it and seriously considered sleeping for the next decade, but he had more important things to do first. Out back there was a large walled-in garden that was perfect for Crowley's purposes.

Aziraphale joined him holding two large glasses of wine. Crowley smirked. “Trying to distract me?”

“Just being a good host,” Aziraphale said, hiding a smile behind his own glass.

Crowley drank deeply, humming in appreciation of the vintage. Trust the angel to know his tastes.

“So how exactly are you going to prove your point out here?”

“We, my dear sweet angel, are going to wrestle.”

“...How would that prove anything?”

“How would it not?”

“A match between us doesn't prove or disprove cheating between someone else.”

“I think you're just afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Losing. To me. Right here, right now.”

“That's a bit presumptuous. You don't even know how to wrestle.”

Crowley shrugged. “How hard can it be?” With a gesture, their glasses were gone.

Aziraphale huffed a laugh and moved across the perfectly manicured grass an arms reach away from the demon, turning to face him. Crowley grinned and quickly stripped off his clothing, tossing them haphazardly behind him. He took an extra moment to put a bit of effort into his current gender.

“What are you doing?”

“From what we just watched it seems this sport is done naked, is it not?”

“Well...”

“Come on, angel. We need to do this right.”

To his utter delight, Aziraphale stripped off his clothing, dropping them in a pile next to him. Crowley felt a hot twist in his gut as the angel put forth the effort too.

“Ready?” Aziraphale asked.

“Almost.” A snap and they were covered in oil.

Aziraphale shook his head fondly and gestured Crowley closer. When they were an acceptable distance apart, Aziraphale started to circle. Pleased, Crowley followed suit.

“The goal,” Aziraphale said, “is to get your opponent on his back three times.”

“Seems easy,” Crowley said. The breath was knocked out of him as his back hit the ground, Aziraphale pinning him effortlessly.

“Does it?” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his ear.

“Cheater,” Crowley said. He stretched languidly, shifting up to press against the angel as fully as possible.

“That's one,” Aziraphale said. He stood, pulling Crowley to his feet as he went.

They moved back to their starting positions and circled briefly. This time when Aziraphale moved Crowley was ready. They locked, each trying to overpower the other. It was honestly a lot of fun, but then again, the opportunity to grapple with a naked Aziraphale was always going to be fun. Once again Aziraphale got the better hold and tossed Crowley to the ground. This time he was ready and rolled before the angel could pin him.

“How many times have you done this?” He asked, panting.

With a quick move, Aziraphale had Crowley on the ground again. “I've never done this before.”

Crowley surged up and flipped them, pinning Aziraphale. “You seem very good at this for someone who has never done this before. Are you _lying_ , angel?”

Aziraphale scowled and tried to get up, but Crowley quite liked his position and put a bit of demonic power into his grip, keeping him in place. “Angel,” he sang.

“I've watched a fair amount, but no, I've never partaken. It seemed... deceitful. It's not as though a human could move me if I didn't want to be moved.”

Crowley slipped a knee between Aziraphale's thighs, kissing him messily. “So I'm your first. I love it when I'm your first.” With a growl he bit a line down Aziraphale's throat, relishing in his angel jerking up beneath him. “I win.”

He most decidedly did not squeak when Aziraphale flipped them again, and then they began fighting in earnest, neither giving any quarter. The oil made it more of a challenge for either to get a good hold, although that may have just been the distracting slide of skin on skin. Thankfully Aziraphale still seemed to be fighting like a human, so with a few quick tricks, and morphing of his bone structure Crowley was able to get behind his angel, trapping his arm with enough pressure to keep him down. Aziraphale refused to go quietly, but with the way Crowley was holding him he was only able to push himself up a little, one arm the only thing keeping his shoulders from being pressed to the grass.

“Looks like I've got you,” Crowley hissed, grinding his hips forward. “You look so good like this. You're so beautiful.”

“Don't say things like that,” Aziraphale panted, shifting a little in his grip as he tried to pull away.

“Oh? Why not?” Crowley twisted Aziraphale's arm a tad cruelly until he stilled.

“Because it's not true –”

Crowley twisted until Aziraphale cried out, and then loosened his grip just slightly. “Don't say things like that,” he growled.

Aziraphale glared at him over his shoulder. “Why should you care –”

“Why should I – You're _mine_ , angel! I won't tolerate anyone talking about you like that, _not even you_.” With a growl he used his hold to flip Aziraphale on his back and crowded close, running greedy hands up Aziraphale's thighs, and up his stomach. His mouth followed, biting the soft skin until he reached Aziraphale's throat. “You are beautiful. In every way. And I won't stop telling you that until you believe it.” Crowley pressed forward, the kiss a possessive brand that left Aziraphale breathless beneath him. I think I win, angel.”

“Did you?” Aziraphale panted.

Crowley sucked a bruise beneath Aziraphale's jaw. “How do you have that ridiculous idea in your head anyway?”

Aziraphale's breath caught. He wrapped his legs around Crowley's waist, pulling him closer. “I just like to be comfortable, but I know humans have a standard of beauty, and I don't –”

“Their standard changes every decade or so, you can't take anything they think seriously.”

“I'm not stupid, Crowley.”

“You are certainly sounding a bit...”

“You know I can sense love and –”

“Love? Do I look like I give a fuck about love? I'm talking about _lust_ , angel, and it rages around you like an inferno.” Crowley dragged his fingers through the oil on Aziraphale's belly, and pushed them quickly inside the angel, relishing the sharp gasp. “No, angel. If I found even the faintest hint of love in those human's around you, I would rip them limb from limb for imagining you like this. For daring to touch what's mine.”

The feel of Aziraphale tight against his fingers and the sight of his bare skin in the moonlight was too much for Crowley. The temptation was too strong. He quickly removed his fingers and entered him with an unceremonious thrust. The angel probably could have used more prep, and Satan knew Crowley would have loved to take the time to take his angel apart, but at the moment the demon couldn't find the willpower to stop.

Aziraphale's head was thrown back against the grass, his hair spread out around him like a halo. His fingers dug into the grass for purchase as he screamed Crowley's name into the still night. The sound of it broke what little remained of Crowley's control, and his nails dug into the soft flesh of Aziraphale's hips as he pulled the angel ever closer, losing himself in the divine warmth around him.

Afterward they lay sprawled together, panting as they watched the stars, their limbs a loose tangle.

“Okay, _that_ was well worth the trip to Rome.”

“Marry me?” Aziraphale asked.

“I think we did this in the wrong order then,” Crowley chuckled. “Unless this culture is vastly different than everywhere else I've been lately.”

“There are plenty of places where sex isn't dependent on marriage,” Aziraphale scoffed.

“But every one of those cultures has sex immediately after.”

Aziraphale tried to look annoyed, but the contentment coming off him was too strong for that illusion to last. He settled for poking Crowley in the side. “Do you want to get married or not?”

“I'll always want to marry you, angel. Don't be silly. Do I need to... change for this?”

Aziraphale smiled, running a careful hand through Crowley's flaming red hair. “You can if you'd like, my dearest.” His hand traveled to his face, running over the demon's lips. Crowley bit at them playfully. “But you don't have to. I think you look quite nice as you are.”

Crowley flushed, pleased Aziraphale couldn't see it in the darkness. “Well, I suppose if you want to we could. It has been a while.”

“In the morning then?”

“Ehh...” Crowley drawled.

“Eh?”

“I've been trying this human thing lately. Sleeping. Have you ever partaken? I always thought it was a waste of time, but it's quite nice. And sleeping in the morning sun? Absolutely amazing. Would you mind terribly if we got married in the afternoon?”

Aziraphale shot him a slightly puzzled look, but Crowley radiated innocence. “...Alright. Would you like to use my bed? It's quite nice. A bit dusty perhaps, but I'm sure I can freshen it up a bit. Would... you like me to join you?”

“Ah, no, don't worry about it. I'm sure you have plenty of reading to do. Maybe another time? Oh! How about after the wedding!”

“I suppose –”

“Besides, wouldn't it be more romantic to have that be our first time?” Crowley leered.

“It would hardly our first time, we've been married for –”

“Our first time _cuddling_.”

“We've cuddled before, we're cuddling _now_ –”

“Don't ruin this for me, love,” Crowley winked. With one last lingering kiss, Crowley slipped away, shutting himself in Aziraphale's opulent bedroom with a firm click. Then he was out the window into the night, rushing like a madman to find someone he could interrogate about Roman weddings.

The sun was high by the time Crowley returned. Aziraphale was standing peacefully in front of his home, eyes closed as the sun bathed his face. Crowley joined him, a tad apprehensively.

Aziraphale opened his eyes, looking at him with a smile, and paused.

Crowley was still male, but he was wearing a very feminine outfit, with a woolen belt which was tied in an intricate knot. He'd been assured by a team of very drunk women that it was mandatory for a wedding.

Aziraphale's eyes settled on it, knowing and intrigued. “A nodus Herculaneum?”

With a smirk, the knot began to writhe like a nest of snakes. “It's traditional.”

“How many kids are we planning to have then?” Aziraphale teased.

“Well, I hear the goal is seventy, so I imagine somewhere around there.”

“Seventy seems a bit much.”

“Depends on perspective. Look at how many children our mother had. Clearly it isn't that hard.”

“Or I suppose we could spread them out a bit...”

“Raise a few dozen at a time...” Crowley mused.

“Mmm. Are we going to name them after people we know?”

“What, like name one after Hastur? Michael? Gabriel?”

“ _Not_ Gabriel,” Aziraphale grumbled.

“Well come to that, not Hastur then either. And Michael? Complete bitch.”

“We're meant to name them after people we like, aren't we?”

“I don't know about you, but I hate everyone in Hell.”

“I think that's mandatory,” Aziraphale said.

“Don't be like that. I happen to know you hate everyone in Heaven.”

“Hm,” but he didn't deny it. “So who are we to name these future hypothetical children after?”

“Various members of humanity I suppose.”

“Considering the belt's origin, Hercules would be a good start.”

“I'm not sure how well that name will age.”

“And any child of ours would likely be immortal, so aging well needs to be a factor.”

“Likely? What else would they be? You don't think we'd have human children, do you?”

“... That would be unlikely,” Aziraphale conceded.

“The _real_ question would be, will our offspring be angelic or demonic?”

“Occult or Ethereal,” Aziraphale said knowingly.

“Wouldn't they be Nephilim?” Crowley said thoughtfully.

“I'm not sure either of us can bear children though.”

“Details. Now, are you ready to get started?” With a flourish he revealed a golden signet ring. He'd been persuaded by a very aggressive brunette at the bar that they were all the rage.

Aziraphale looked fascinated. He held out a hand. The white and gold ring from Egypt was still on his finger, the only thing keeping it from dissolving with age was a series of heavenly miracles. Crowley carefully removed it and slid the signet ring into place.

“I want that back,” Aziraphale said absently. It was old, but so was he, and there was no way he would discard the first ring Crowley ever gave him.

Crowley shook his head fondly and passed the old ring back, amused when Aziraphale tucked it away safely. “Do you have something for me?”

Aziraphale smiled fondly and held out a ring of his own. It was a twisting black band that looked suspiciously like a snake made of obsidian with a deep blood red ruby embedded in the center. It was beautiful and exactly his style. Aziraphale to slip it on his finger, and Crowley was amazed, watching the color stark against his skin.

“It's a bit on the fragile side, just by the nature of the stone. I used a few... enhancements of my own to try to preserve it, but just be aware that it may chip.”

“It's never going to chip, angel, believe me. Now, where were we? Ah, yes.” Crowley held at his hand. “Some very enthusiastic young ladies told me that for this to be official we need to make our intentions publicly known.”

“You... actually looked into it?”

“Oh yes, angel. I even got a... what was it called... a conubium. Permission and what not. We've got to do this properly, and getting told off on citizenship would not be a good end to the night. Give me your hand. We need to walk through the city holding hands so everyone knows what we're going to do.”

A bemused Aziraphale happily took Crowley's hand and they set off through the town. The mere act garnered some looks, but not as many as Crowley would have liked. That was until they left the residential sector and reached the city square. His chest puffed with pride at all of the looks they received.

No one knew who Crowley was. He was handsome, but aside from that, he was a nonentity. Everyone knew Aziraphale – if they hadn't talked to him they'd at least seen him. Blonde was an uncommon and highly desired color, bound to turn heads, and the man himself was incredibly kind if easily distracted by the written word. Aziraphale waved at the people he knew, and to Crowley's surprise, many of them joined them on their walk. In fact, the further they walked the more people joined them. The most surprising thing was how loud they were. There was excitement, and dancing and Crowley could swear he even heard cheering. He looked around behind them and saw a flood of people pressing behind them.

“How... do you know so many people? Should I be concerned?”

“No, dear boy,” Aziraphale laughed. “You wanted to declare a wedding, and so you have! These lovely people want to be in on the fun. Wouldn't you join a mob of dancing, happy people if you saw one?”

“Strictly for tempting purposes only.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

“Where are we heading anyway?”

“I thought you asked about weddings?” Aziraphale teased.

“Broadly. Broadly. I thought we just walked around the block and that took care of it.”

“That wouldn't be any fun. We're going all the way across the city. I have a friend who happens to be a priest, and he's agreed to do the ceremony. We're heading to his house, up there on the hill.”

“Of course you have a priest friend. I suppose you made sure we had permission too...”

“Of course I made sure we had permission. These people all think I'm a citizen, but I wasn't so sure they'd think you were. And you say that like you don't have any priest friends.”

“Of course I do, but they're a little more... fast and loose with their devotion. Not the kind you'd like to meet.”

“I'd love to meet them. I do so love thwarting your wiles, and if it means leading a lost soul back to our Mother, all the better.”

“Angel, you wound me. Talking of thwarting me on our wedding day.” He smiled and squeezed Aziraphale's hand tighter.

The house on top of the hill was one of the largest building Crowley had seen so far in this country that wasn't a temple or palace of some kind, and he couldn't help but wonder how pure and righteous the man who owned such a place would be. There was no way that a truly devout person had made enough money legally to afford that. If it were any other day he might have teased has angel about it, but today was special. It could wait.

The manicured lawn was pristine. It was unnecessarily large, and filled with all kinds of trees and bushes that created an artificial privacy wall. It continued around the house to the back where Crowley could see people bustling hurriedly, setting up tables. A selection of the staff were dressed in their best, lining the walk up to the front doors, which were thrown wide open. The crowd that had followed them all the way up filled the front lawn, still celebrating, many making their way around the house. Servants carrying dishes of food walked out to meet them.

“Okay, seriously. Where are we?” Crowley hissed.

“My friend's house.”

“Bullshit. No way. Lies.”

“Seriously.”

“There is no way this belongs to a _priest_.”

“Crowley...”

“And even if I concede that it _might_ , why are we here instead of say... a temple?”

“I thought you researched weddings?” Aziraphale teased.

“Doesn't mean I paid _that_ much attention.”

“Weddings are typically performed at the parent's home. Since neither of us has something like that, I reached out to my friend. He felt bad that we don't have any extended family, and promised to spare no expense.”

“Taking advantage of a human with cash. Naughty naughty.”

“That's not – We're not – Oh, no, are we? I need to stop this...”

“Angel, angel. Look at this place! Whoever this human is, it's clear he can spare enough for a party. Plus think of the good karma. No way he jumps at doing this for you if he doesn't have something to atone for.”

“But I...”

“Hush, we're doing this. It'll be my good deed for the decade.”

“Taking advantage is a good deed?”

“Oh certainly. He clearly needs help feeling like he's donating to someone in need. I'm happy to sacrifice myself for his well being.”

“Welcome.” The priest stood in his ceremonial vestments on a slightly raised platform. He gestured the pair closer, looking at Aziraphale with a bit too much fondness.

Crowley fought the urge to kick him.

As though reading his mind the priest focused on the demon. Crowley quickly straightened in response. “Do you consent?”

“To....?” Crowley's eyes darted Aziraphale. If the angel thought they were inviting this man to any future wrestling matches he was sorely mistaken.

“... To this union?”

Crowley felt like an idiot, but beside him Aziraphale's smile shown brightly, so he couldn't feel too terrible. “Yes,” he said.

“And do you?” The priest asked Aziraphale.

“Of course,” the angel answered.

There was no doubt in his mind that his angel would answer that way, but his heart still skipped a beat.

The priest's eyes gazed over the crowd of people still streaming into the room. Crowley couldn't tell if they were the same ones who'd followed them through the streets, or if Aziraphale had planned for them too.

“Does anyone here object?” A beat of silence. “Then let us begin. Quando tu Gaius, ego Gaia.”

The women had apparently missed a few steps, but they had prepared him for this, so Crowley knew to chant back perfectly in time with Aziraphale. “Quando tu Gaius, ego Gaia”

After that Crowley didn't pay much attention to what the priest had to say. There was something about the various Gods, and asking for blessings. He didn't come back until the servants brought out a simple cake. Another chant, and then the priest offered it to the fire and to Jupiter. Then he turned, and offered the cake to Crowley, who obediently took a small bite, and then to Aziraphale.

Crowley had never been a fan of food, and to him the cake wasn't anything special. Aziraphale would make a better judge. He looked to his angel who seemed quite pleased with it. As soon as he swallowed Crowley pulled him into a lingering kiss, and the guests erupted. Then he was being slapped on the back by a pleased audience as they were led out onto the yard.

To Crowley it all seemed a bit fake – these people didn't know them after all, but Aziraphale was blushing, pleased. He took Crowley by the hand and led him through the throng of cheering people to the gardens that stretched behind the house. A large feast had been laid, and soon the lawn was full of people talking, laughing, eating. All of them seemed so happy about the wedding, that it was frankly a bit confusing. People he didn't know – couldn't possibly know – were slapping him on the back and congratulating him. It was weird and baffling, but Aziraphale was by his side the whole time making it at the very least tolerable. The chances were high that if he'd been alone all these people would be going home with some severe food poisoning.

The biggest annoyance was the food. He wasn't in any way interested in the small cubes of meat, cheese, vegetables, or pastries, but morsels kept getting forced on him anyway. Even when he tried to turn it down, or turn away, the food would still somehow find its way into his hand. To his absolute delight, Aziraphale was more than happy to eat whatever Crowley offered him – which was everything – licking the demon's fingers to get every last crumb.

The sun was beginning to set as dinner came to an end, and the energy from the crowd was mounting. Soon the priest appeared at the door, the crowd cheering to see him, and then spilled past until they were alone.

“Are you ready?”

“For... what?” Crowley asked.

“I'm starting to doubt you actually researched weddings, my dear. You seem to be missing several parts.”

“Of course I did. I know a wedding when I see one. We got married.”

Aziraphale smiled sweetly and squeezed his hand. The priest turned and led them back through the house and out the front door. The guests were waiting for them.

“Quando tu Gaius, ego Gia?” The priest asked again.

“Quando tu Gaius, ego Gia!” The crowd shouted.

“Quando tu Gaius, ego Gia,” Aziraphale and Crowley joined.

Then they were walking down the path, the crowd of people throwing flowers and nuts as they went. As they hit the main road even more people joined, laughing and dancing.

“I mean it, who are these people?” Crowley hissed. A miracle made sure none actually touched him, the same could not be said for Aziraphale. “Are you using a miracle? Trying to spice this up?”

“That's so wasteful,” Aziraphale laughed. “I'd never.”

“You would so.”

Eventually, they made it back to Aziraphale's home.

The angel swept Crowley up into his arms, and stepped them both over the threshold, kicking the door shut to drown out the mob.

Crowley giggled, ducking his head into the curve of Aziraphale's throat. “I have to admit, that was far more public than I realized.”

“It is an odd experience, I'll grant you,” Aziraphale said. “Fun to watch though.” He carried Crowley through the various halls until he reached the bedroom.

“Have you ever participated?”

“Yes. It's a bit hard to resist when you see a crowd passing. And then there's the free food so...”

“Ah, of course,” Crowley said, as he hit the mattress with a slight bounce. “And now consummation time.”

“Have you forgotten already?” Aziraphale teased. “We already did that part. You're meant to be showing me the joys of sleep.”

“Cuddling all night, how could any sane man refuse?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Aziraphale said. He stretched himself out over the demon, his fingers deftly untying the nodus Herculaneum still around Crowley's waist, their mouths effortlessly finding each other.

“I thought you wanted to sleep?” Crowley laughed.

“Later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
